Deathbed
by GaleLeahy
Summary: Jesse St. James had his problems, too. Based on 'Deathbed' by Relient K. Brief St. Berry, overall Finchel. Little one-shot I came up about Jesse - Rated T because I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

_I can smell the death on the sheets _

_Covering me _

_I can't believe this is the end _

I was too young. I had so much left to do…so many things to fix. But this is the end.

Why can't I accept that?

_But this is my deathbed _

_I lie here alone _

_If I close my eyes tonight _

_I know I'll be home _

In all of my fifty-two years, I had never known a home. At once I thought it was the place I grew up in; that thought was gone as soon as I was to UCLA. I thought home was the worthless relationships I was constantly in; that wasn't it, either. I finally settled that my home was in my drugs; yes, that was accurate.

_The year was nineteen forty one _

_I was eight years old and _

_Far, far too young _

_To know that the stories _

_Of battles and glories _

_Was a tale a kind mother _

_Made up for her son _

I can't remember my mother that well. I remember that she always smiled when she was around me; I later associated that to her giving me a show-face. I wonder if she realized I was giving her one, too.

_You see _

_Dad was a traveling preacher _

_Teaching the words of the Teacher _

_And mother had sworn he _

_Went off to the war _

_And died there with honor _

_Somewhere on a beach there _

_But he left once to never return _

_Which taught me that I should unlearn _

_Whatever I thought a father should be _

_I abandoned that thought _

_Like he abandoned me _

I liked to pretend that I didn't need a father figure in my life. Truth be told, I did. So I turned to the closest thing to a father that I had; Broadway. Broadway would never leave me; Broadway would never abandon me. I learned quickly that fathers were just an illusion and – like everything else – it would've never lasted anyway. Better to think he died than to face reality.

_By forty seven I was fourteen _

_I'd acquired a taste for liquor and nicotine _

_I smoked until I threw up _

_Yet I still lit 'em up _

_For thirty more years _

_Like a machine _

I figured it I drank a bunch of herbal tea after I smoked, it would balance out and keep my voice the perfection that it was. It didn't; my voice slowly lost its brilliance. I still won Nationals four consecutive years for Vocal Adrenaline. Sometimes I regret devoting everything to the drugs and Glee but it's not like I can have a do-over. It is what it is, I suppose.

_So right there you have it _

_That one filthy habit _

_Is what got me where I am today _

Alone.

_I can smell the death on the sheets _

_Covering me _

_I can't believe this is the end _

_I can hear those sad memories _

_Still haunting me _

_So many things _

_I'd do again _

So many things are haunting me at the moment. My only love leaving me, my kids yelling at me for being such a crap-like parent…my own dreams turning on me and leaving me trapped in my own body. I struggled to remember the confident, smug eighteen-year-old that knew where he was going; I couldn't. I could only remember the scared, broken eighteen-year-old who was addicted to basically every drug known to man; who couldn't even admit to himself that he was lost.

_But this is my deathbed _

_I lie here alone _

_If I close my eyes tonight _

_I know I'll be home _

Hospitals are white. It's like some strange vortex of doom; everywhere you look there is white and white and (shock) more white. Would it kill them to add some color? Oh wait, I'm only here to die. Might as well be white…I won't be here long anyway.

_I got married on March twenty first _

_Eight months before my wife would give birth _

_It's easier to be sure you love someone _

_When her father inquires with the barrel of a gun _

_The union was far from harmonious _

_No two people could have been more alone than us _

_The years would go by and she'd love someone else _

_And I realized I hadn't been loved yet myself _

I hadn't meant to get Rachel knocked-up. It just kind of…happened. It was a crazy summer; I was drunk half of it. I had failed; at UCLA, Broadway, at life. She was there and just as empty as me. When she cracked it to her parents, it wasn't her dad that scared me; it was Shelby. I swear to this day, that lady is mental. She threatened to shoot me if I didn't marry Rachel and make her happy. So I tried to…but when the day of the wedding rolled around, both of us were screaming "show-face". I always knew it boiled down to Hudson…when she came with the divorce papers, I realized that nobody had ever loved me in my entire life.

_From there it's your typical spiel _

_Yeah if life was a highway _

_I was drunk at the wheel _

_I was seeing the loose ends _

_All fall apart _

_Yeah I swear I was destined to fail _

_And fail from the start _

For all of the talent I (used) to have, it seemed like my destiny was to be that guy that everybody looked at sympathetically and said "at least we aren't that guy". But, I brought it upon myself. I searched and searched for somebody to give the blame for all the crap that had happened to me but it all boiled down to the empty face that searched me in the mirror.

_I bowled about six times a week _

_The bottle of Beam kept the memories from me _

_The marriage had taken a seven-ten split _

_And along with my pride the ex-wife took the kids _

"Daddy,"

I opened my eyes groggily, still a bit on a Beam high. My daughter Barbra stared at me sadly, her eyes far too wise for a girl of only thirteen. She had Rachel's big brown eyes and my curly hair.

"What's wrong, star?"

She only bent down and hugged me, and I felt tears staining my shirt. I cautiously put my hands on her back and squeezed her, knowing what was about to happen.

"I love you daddy. I wish you would quit and give me a reason to stay, though. But we just can't stay here and deal with all the crap that you keep giving us. You're my daddy and I will always love you but we have to leave; be good. For me,"

With that Barbra stood up and left, leaving me in my bed with tears flowing down my face. I walked slowly over to the window and watched as Rachel took my kids and packed them into the car, no emotion showing on her face. My heart finally broke when Freddy – my little boy – looked up at me and gave me his little half smile and waved with a twinkle in his eyes. I somehow managed to lift my lifeless arm and wave back to my little son, trying my best to look happy. Rachel noticed Freddy waving and followed his gaze up to me, giving me a look of pity. I just nodded my head and tried to give her the confident smirk that she knew from high school. I knew it wasn't confident anymore; it was lonely.

_I can smell the death on the sheets _

_Covering me _

_I can't believe this is the end _

_I can hear those sad memories _

_Still haunting me _

_So many things _

_I'd do again _

Three years after that day, my little girl turned sixteen. It was also one of the worst days of my life; I had gotten laid-off. So I was beyond high.

That got Barbra mad.

"Could you not be sober for just one day, daddy? I just wanted my dad to be sober so he could help celebrate the fact that his daughter is sixteen! No wonder mom divorced you; you're just a drunk bum who will never have a life or anything to live for. I hope you're happy. Do you know that the other day Freddy was called DUI? You know what he said? He said that you "were just going through a phase" and said he was proud of you. And when his class was making Father's Day projects, he didn't make one for Finn, he made one for you. He learned how to play piano and sings Queen constantly because he thinks that if he does things that mattered to you that you would come back. Do you even realize what you have done to him? Face it; you're a loser, Jesse. You may be my father, but Finn is my dad. Have a good life."

_But this is my deathbed _

_I lie here alone _

_If I close my eyes tonight _

_I know I'll be home _

I never saw Barbra or Freddy again. Freddy died of cancer on his tenth birthday; a stormy August day. I didn't find out until I flipped open the paper and saw my little boy and the date of his death. I didn't show up to the service; I figured I wasn't wanted there. But for as long as I lived that day every year I would stay sober and – after midnight – I would stop by Freddy's grave and sing to him. Granted my voice wasn't what it used to be, but it was the thought that counted, right?

_I was so scared of Jesus _

_But He sought me out _

_Like the cancer in my lungs _

_That's killing me now _

_And I've given up hope _

_On the days I have left _

_But I cling to the hope _

_Of my life in the next _

It was only six months ago when I learned that I had lung cancer. I didn't regret the smoking or the drinking, though. It wasn't like I could change anything. Wasn't worth the 'if only' because – in the end – those were just empty wishes. I knew Barbra wasn't going to come rolling around to come say good-bye to me. I knew Rachel wasn't going to come, either. I probably wouldn't even have a funeral – because of my addiction, I had no friends in the end. They would probably just stick me in a hole and be done with it. I really, truly was alone.

_Then Jesus showed up _

_Said, "Before we go up _

_I thought that we might reminisce _

_See one night in your life _

_When you turned out the light _

_You asked for and prayed for my forgiveness" _

Ever since I was little, mother had always taken me to church every Sunday. After she died in a car accident, I stopped going all-together. But there was one night after I had finished puking up my latest stash that I dragged myself over to the church and got on my knees and – for the first time in many years – I prayed.

_You cried wolf _

_The tears they soaked your fur _

_The blood dripped from your fangs _

_You said, "What have I done?" _

_You loved that Lamb _

_With every sinful bone _

_And there you wept alone _

_Your heart was so contrite _

There was a strange combination of tears, sweat, blood, dirt, and the contents of my stomach on my face. It wasn't the first time I had been alone before but it was the first time that I had felt alone and complete at the same time.

_You said, "Jesus, please forgive me of my crimes _

_Sanctify this withered heart of mine _

_Stay with me until my life is through _

_And on that day please take me home with you" _

It was one of the only times I had ever prayed in my life but it all felt so _right_. I had never been so sure of anything else in my entire life. For the first time, I felt…whole.

_I can smell the death on the sheets _

_Covering me _

_I can't believe this is the end _

_I can hear You whisper to me, _

_"It's time to leave _

_You'll never be lonely again"_

Rachel had once told me that I would never be lonely since I was with her. I knew that it was going to be a lie when I woke up in three in the morning to find her sneaking out of the window dressed up like she was heading off for a date. But I knew that this time, the sentence actually meant something. It wasn't empty words, it was a promise.

_But this was my deathbed _

_I died there alone _

_When I closed my eyes tonight _

_You carried me home _

Death wasn't as scary as it was cracked-up to be. In fact, I now realized that it was much easier than living. Even though physically I died there alone, in my heart I wasn't alone. I was with those I'd hurt, those I'd loved, and those I'd known and they all forgave me for my awful behavior. As I was carried away from my wreck-of-a-life, I passed by Barbra's house where she was happily lying down at her desk, her latest script in her hands. I passed by Rachel and Finn's house where I saw Rachel's eyes flicker open for a second – as if looking at me – and then rubbed Finn's arm and fell back asleep. Slowly the world began to fade away and I looked straight ahead, ready for what was coming next. Ready to see my little boy, ready to be Jesse once more; I was ready to be home.

_I am the Way _

_Follow Me _

_And take My hand _

_And I am the Truth _

_Embrace Me and you'll understand _

_And I am the Life _

_And through Me you'll live again _

_For I am Love _

_I am Love _

_I, I am Love_


	2. Author's Note

**A/N: **

**Hello! I'm Gale Leahy and that was my first story! I wanted to give Jesse a little "emotional depth" per-say and after I heard 'Deathbed' by Relient K, I thought it would be fantastic for Jesse to reflect upon that. I realize it's a tad OOC (more than a tad, Gale…) but we all have to start somewhere, right? Thanks for reading and please review – I love feedback :)**


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